


You're Ripped At Every Edge (But You're A Masterpiece)

by spacecake



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Badass Clarke, Basically just fluff and maybe with a little bit of angst at the end, Contains spoilers from both seasons, F/F, Grounder Clarke, Lexa is a romantic dork, Post Season 2, Time Jump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecake/pseuds/spacecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A whole year has passed since Clarke walked away from her people after the fall of the mountain. A lot has changed since then - relationships have been forged and Clarke learns how to truly live on the ground. But how will Clarke handle when the past comes back to haunt her? Will she finally break down under the weight of her guilt, or will she prevail and come out victorious?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Ripped At Every Edge (But You're A Masterpiece)

Sunlight filters through the thin tent walls and passes the low hanging canopy surrounding the bed, illuminating the two figures curling up against one another despite the scorching summer heat. Lexa stirs against the pelts that has fallen halfway to the floor during her twists and turns throughout the night. She blinks a few times to clear her still hazy mind from the remnants of her drowsiness, and feels a slight tingle against her cheek. She smiles when she registers the golden hair that is currently smothering her with the smell of roses, and she gently flicks the flowing locks back to uncover a sleeping Clarke, unaware of her admirer. It has been a little over a year and Lexa is pleased to know that the constant night terrors that used to plague her girlfriend has since passed. Girlfriend - that was the sky people’s vocabulary that Clarke had introduced her to once it was established that both parties wanted to pursue more than just a simple friendship, and to be completely honest, the term was something that Lexa was hesitant with at first but has since learned to cherish. Even though she knows that Clarke still holds the burden of her guilt in her heart, she has slowly guided her to learn how to bear their weight without it trying to crumble her soul with every breath she takes. Her musing was cut short when the figure beside her stretches and hesitantly, Clarke’s eyelids flutter open to reveal a pair of azure eyes, as blue as the sky they came from. Lexa leans over to press a quick kiss on her temple. 

“Good Morning, Clarke,” Lexa simply says, softly caressing her cheek.

Clarke lazily smiles, enjoying the sight before her. Lexa is in her tight, black tank top and loose fitting pants that covers half of her long, tanned legs. It was habit for Lexa to be completely dressed to sleep, fearing possible attacks during the night, and the need to always be prepared. Clarke, however, is only in her chest bindings and underwear, not caring about anything other than the need to not be sweating constantly during the night. 

“Morning, Lexa,” Clarke mutters, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “Do we have to get up now?” She couldn’t quite keep the hope out of her tone and gives Lexa her best puppy eyes in an attempt to persuade the older woman.

Lexa avoids her gaze, knowing that she could not resist giving the blonde what she wants if she falls prey to those enticing shades of blue that she loves. “I _am_ the commander, Clarke. I cannot ignore my duties for long, and especially with the Coalition Ceremony coming up, there are lots of planning to go through so the meetings and festivities run smoothly. You have your training, and you also said you would join the hunting party to bring back meat for lunch remember?” 

Groaning, Clarke rests her arm on her forehead and pushes further into the mattress. “Just five more minutes,” she manage to utter through her pout. 

This did not deter Lexa in the slightest so when an idea forms in her mind, she smirks and announces in a low baritone. “Maybe if Indra was to come and wake you herself...” 

Pelts were thrown backwards as Clarke, quite literally, leaps from the bed in record time, but with the suddenness of her movement, she is unstable on her feet and as she sways, her bare feet slips on the smooth bear furs, sending her tumbling rear first onto the ground. Lexa chuckles amusedly, her eyes twinkling with ill-disguised mischief while Clarke lets out a howl of pain before rubbing her backside and glaring at Lexa with all the anger she can muster in her fragile state. 

“I’ll get you back for that,” Clarke snarls before she gingerly stands up and walks to her wooden chest to retrieve her clothes.

Legs dangling down the bed, Lexa sits, contently watching Clarke dress herself - first in a tight-fitting vest, then a navy blue leather jacket on top. She was also wearing the skin-tight black pants that Lexa secretly admires, along with a comfortable pair of boots. 

Knowing that Indra will expect her presence to discuss the details of her arrival at Polis soon, Lexa strides towards to entrance of their shared tent. “I’ll bring us breakfast. Some roasted boar meat and root vegetables?” 

The answer came in the form of Clarke’s stomach growling loudly. Lexa snickers before she has to abruptly dodge a flying pillow aiming for her head. 

* * *

“Block. Sidestep. Parry. Duck. Make an arch with your leg to sweep me off my feet. Good. Again.” 

Sweat is trickling down both woman’s face as they spar in a wide clearing surrounded by the luscious greens of the forest. The sharp sound of metal against metal is constantly broken by Indra’s concise commands as she attacks Clarke with her own sword relentlessly, while Clarke wields her two shiny short swords impressively, maneuvering it with both grace and power. They have been training since the sun was at the highest point in the sky and now the gentle orange hues of the sunset sparkles against the beads of moisture on Clarke’s brows. The fighting is very evenly matched - they soon found out that Clarke is a prodigy and after training excessively for nearly a whole year, she possessed a spectacular set of swordsmanship skills that when paired with her tactical mind and natural instincts could come to par with Lexa’s best general, and Indra knows this. Even though they have nearly identical level of expertise, Clarke severely lacks the experience when compared to Indra’s years of serving her commander, which is the reason she is tutoring Clarke on how to improvise when at a disadvantage, along with some breathing techniques that would preserve her stamina in a fight.

During her attack, Clarke distractedly feels the prickling sense of being watched, so while she blocks one of Indra’s overhead blow, she turns her head swiftly to the side to lock gazes with none other than the commander’s emerald eyes. She was so enraptured by Lexa’s intense watch that she nearly did not leap back in time to avoid the hilt of Indra’s sword slamming into her jaw, only managing to do so when she heard the swish of the sword slicing through the air. Grinding her teeth in frustration, Clarke swivels back to face her scowling mentor who is more than annoyed that her student’s concentration had been so easily diverted. 

"That could have cost you your life in the battlefield, Sky Girl” 

“But I avoided your blow in time, Indra, so technically I would still be alive,” Clarke cheekily defended, earning her a series of forceful hits which she managed to parry, but the violence in each strike forces her to take a few steps backwards to maintain her balance. 

Wanting to wrap up this training session, Clarke prepares for another swing of Indra’s sword and just before the metal would cut into her shoulder guard, she brought both of her swords up to trap Indra’s between their blades, eliciting an unpleasant screech from the impact of the metal. In one fluid movement, she twists Indra’s captured sword and wrenches it out of the older woman’s hand so the blade fell onto the grass with a dull thud. Using the momentum she acquired, Clarke lunges forward and kicks hard into her abdomen, then swings around her opponent’s body so that her two swords are now hovering precariously just beside Indra’s neck. 

Indra is still heaving from the blow to her stomach but she manages a small grin. “Your speed and tactics are indeed quite admirable. That’s all for today.”

Clarke removes her swords from Indra’s neck and grins widely, bowing her head to acknowledge the hard-earned compliment that she once thought was impossible to receive from the stoic warrior. What had at first been animosity from Indra became begrudging respect for the girl who completely eradicated the mountain men, which then gradually developed into mutual friendliness after Clarke had proven to be more than just a useless _branwada_. 

Sauntering over to the commander, Clarke sheathes her swords and accepts the canteen of water from the offered hand gratefully then proceeds to drink hungrily, resulting in a steady stream of water drizzling down her chin and onto the sleeveless tunic she wore. 

Sated, Clarke begins to ask the commander about her day when she notices that her heda was staring intently and is also deep in thought. She smirks slyly. “My eyes are up here, Lexa,” She teased.

Upon hearing Clarke’s voice, Lexa’s head snaps up from where she had been previously staring at and bashfully blushed at being caught. She quickly turns her head sideways to look at the brown bark of a tree before replying. “My apologies, Clarke. Your sword skills are remarkable, I must admit. I just came here to accompany you to dinner... If you wish to dine with me tonight?” 

Chuckling under her breath, Clarke closes the gap between them and reach out to cradle Lexa’s jaw, forcing her to turn back around to face each other, and gently kisses her. The kiss was slow until Lexa starts to apply more pressure, getting intoxicated with Clarke’s taste and needing to feel more of her. Her hand came to rest on the blonde’s slim waist, rubbing circles onto the exposed sliver of skin at her hipbone, while her other hand rest on the nape of the younger girl’s neck. As the kiss deepens, Lexa takes Clarke’s bottom lips between hers and sucks until Clarke involuntarily jerks her hips into Lexa’s thigh, causing the brunette to moan from her reaction. However, before they can take it any further, a loud cough resounds from a small distance beside the couple, making them both dart backwards in time to see Indra rolling her eyes and looking like she wants to be anywhere but here.

Lexa is the first to recompose herself, adjusting each article of clothing that had been scrunched up, but nothing could hide the shade of pink that dusted her neck up to her cheeks. She clears her throat before speaking. “There’s not much sunlight left. We should head back to camp to eat and rest as we have a long journey to make tomorrow if we want to arrive at Polis by dusk.”

Indra wastes no time in walking ahead, eager to not witness anymore intimacy between her heda and the sky girl. She once was not cautious enough and ended up seeing more than what she bargained for, and she is certain that her mind is scarred for life. She definitely did _not_ want a repeat of that again.

 

* * *

 

After a much needed bath at a nearby river, Clarke is strolling casually back, feeling sluggish with a full belly, towards the light of the bonfire and the muffled chattering from the grounders enjoying their meal back at the makeshift camp. Following closely by is her best friend and personal guard, Echo, who was originally from the Ice Nation, but swore allegiance to the commander and the Trikru once she was released from the mountain. Echo told her that she was helped by Bellamy inside the mountain so she also owed a debt to the Sky People, which only made her more loyal towards Clarke. 

“Are you excited for the upcoming festival, Echo? Lexa says the party lasts for days and that the amount of food could feed thousands of people,” Clarke enthuses, her face lighting up with curiosity and her arms open wide to indicate how vast the food must be in her imagination. 

Echo laughs and shakes her head in amusement. “The festival does indeed last for days but I think the commander is exaggerating the part about food. There is an absurd amount of food but all the delegations of the 12 clans have to cram into Polis, so combining the local people with the expected amount of clan representatives would total to around... 600? Or maybe 750 at most. Polis is the largest city of the 12 nations, Clarke, but it is still only _one_ city.” She giggles at the pout across Clarke’s face, who is probably disappointed at her revelation. “Maybe the commander wanted to please you since we all know how much you _love_ food. Actually, I think you should probably just leave the commander to be in a relationship with food since you seem to love it more,” Echo laughs even harder at the look of horror that flits across Clarke’s face, and reaches across to punch Clarke’s arm playfully, which causes Clarke to lose balance and sway into a nearby bush.

A sudden gunshot rings out, piercing through the tranquility of the forest. Echo slams into Clarke, pushing them both behind the wide trunk of the tree where they crouch to locate the source of the attack. Clarke feels a searing pain at her upper arm and when she looks down, she could see that blood is dripping profusely down her arm. She uses her uninjured left arm to put pressure on the wound and, to her relief, found out that the bullet just grazed her flesh. If Echo did not jostle her before the culprit took the shot, the wound would have been fatal. The brunette, seeing her friend’s laceration, proceeds to tear the bottom of her shirt and wraps it tightly around Clarke’s arm to stem the blood flow. It would have to do for now. After Clarke nod her thanks, both of them slowly unsheathe their swords, making sure that the clanging of the metal against the scabbard is minimised. They wait in complete silence. Only their irregular breathing can be heard as the two take turns peeking from behind their cover in the hopes of pinpointing their assailant’s location.

“Could it be your people, Clarke? They’re the only ones with guns and you know that we are forbidden to use it,” Echo whispers to Clarke, whose brows scrunch up in thought. 

Clarke grinds her teeth, her eyes moving rapidly as she thinks of any possible perpetrators who would have aimed to kill her. “I trust that my people would not have deliberately targeted me like this. Even though I’ve been gone for such a long time, there’s no good reason for them to want me dead...” Even as Clarke says it, she knows that it was not the best reasoning. She has been gone for over a year and last she heard from Octavia, she was blamed for the decisions she made during the war, and consequently lost her former friend’s trust. There could be people like Octavia who feels like she lead their people into an unwarranted battle and now wants her dead for the destructions she caused. “Besides, we’re only a days ride away from Polis, and around 2 weeks ride from Camp Jaha. It’s improbable that someone from my camp just stumbled across us unless they were following us all along.” 

As they ponder through the possibilities, a flash of silver caught Clarke’s eyes. In the darkness, with only the dim shine of the moon, Clarke recognises the shiny barrel of a revolver gun emerging from another tree trunk a few paces away. She taps Echo lightly on her shoulder and signals in the direction of the gun. Echo’s eyes widen momentarily, before they both start creeping through the tall grasses in order to navigate around the designated tree and surprise their attacker from behind.

It was a man. But that wasn’t important. What is important, though, is that he is wearing Mount Weather’s guard uniform. Bile instantly rises in Clarke’s throat as she feels her heart pumping wildly in her chest and her hands shaking as beads of sweat travels down her chin. She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle the gasp that escaped, and to stop the clattering of her teeth as she trembles. If the man didn’t have his back on them, he would surely hear and see the sudden movement. Echo glances worriedly at her friend, unable to keep the confusion off her face.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke swallows audibly then turns to face Echo. “When I killed the mountain men,” She swallows again, unable to keep her voice steady. “One survived. His name is Carl Emerson. He was one of the people who received the bone marrow treatment. He escaped into the woods after the massacre.” 

Echo nods, finally knowing the cause of her friend’s almost panic attack, and puts a comforting hand on Clarke’s left arm and squeezes gently. She then glances towards Emerson. He is still oblivious to their presence and seems to be sweeping his calculating gaze around the forest. Clarke takes one last steadying breath, picks up her swords from the ground, and nods to Echo. She’s going to finish what she started. 

Both warriors stealthily sneak up on the lone guard, feet as silent as the night. When they are within reach, Echo moves to incapacitate Emerson behind his back. However, at the last second, Emerson swivels around, as if expecting the attack, and kicks Echo on her side before smashing her head with the blunt handle of his gun. The deafening crack of metal hitting bone reverberate in the night air before the brunette falls heavily onto the soft cushion of the grass. Clarke is rooted to the spot as Emerson’s gun whirl around to point at her. 

“You think I’m that stupid to not see you behind that tree? You think you can just sneak up on me and I’ll surrender to you without any fuss?” Emerson spit, his words laced with venom. “You _murdered_ my people. My family. People I loved. You think I’m going to just let you get away with that?” 

Still not letting go of the swords she defensively put in front of her body, Clarke holds Emerson’s accusing stare. “Well you shouldn’t have been mutilating my people. If I didn’t pull that lever, you were going to bleed my people dry, like you bled hundreds of grounders for decades just to save yourselves. Even now, the only reason you can still breathe is because of the bone marrow you stole from my people after drilling into their bones.” Some time after she reluctantly joined Lexa in Polis, the commander has helped her come to terms with what she had been forced to do at the mountain. She quickly look down at the unmoving form of Echo, with blood steadily dripping from a cut on her forehead, and couldn’t help but grimace.

“There were _children_ in there,” Emerson bellows as he narrow his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief. “At least now I can have my revenge.” At this he sneers at the blonde in front of him, and clicks the gun’s safety off.

Clarke panics as she realises that he can’t miss a shot this near. That she won’t be able to dodge in time. That she won’t get to say sorry to her mother and her friends. That she won’t see Lexa’s face anymore. With this thought, she feels an excruciating pain in her chest, and there’s a lump in her throat to accompany the stinging in her eyes from tears that she refuse to let fall.

Nevertheless, Clarke is determined to not go down without a fight. She throws one of her swords towards Emerson while simultaneously leaping to the side. As she expects, he fires blindly into the air while jumping sideways to avoid getting hit in the stomach by the soaring blade. Unfortunately, Clarke lands on her wounded shoulder as she let loose a small shriek of pain, before rolling back onto her feet. Emerson, too, is scrambling to get up though he’s not quick enough to dodge the dagger that embeds itself into the middle of his chest. He let out a deep groan as he bend over. The former guard then snaps his head up and when he meets Clarke’s eyes, his pair turned deadly. He let out a loud shout of determination before sprinting towards Clarke, gun forgotten on the floor in his haste to inflict pain upon the person who is responsible for the annihilation of his people. She is completely transfixed as she thought Emerson would be bleeding out on the floor instead of continuing to fight so as he pummeled her with his fists, she did not react in time to block his first blows which landed on her temple and cheekbones multiple times. After the initial shock wore off, she twists his wrist and force them behind his back at an angle that would cause extreme pain to his bones. She then stomp the back of his knees so that he is forced to kneel down. His head hangs low as he struggles to breathe through the tormenting pain of his injuries. 

That is how Lexa and her warriors found them. Emerson with a knife lodged deep in his chest and the light dimming from his eyes, and Clarke breathing deeply to regain control over her body that has been taken over by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Echo has awaken and Clarke concluded that she has mild concussion, which is not much to worry about. 

Lexa instantly rushes to the blonde’s side. “Are you alright, Clarke?” Her voice tinge with worry and her hands start to roam the girl’s body, locating each and every bruise and cut. Finally, her eyes focus on the wound on the bandaged shoulder where blood has seeped through the shirt so there was a visible deep red blotch. “You’re hurt... Bring her back to the camp and treat her wounds,” Lexa directed the last part to the group of grounders, including Nyko, who immediately move to help Clarke stand up. “Echo can tell me what happened. I’ll be back soon, Clarke.” 

Slowly, the group of grounders escorting Clarke shuffles through the forest. Clarke is slightly distracted by the pain at her arm that she nearly collides with whatever is blocking her path if not for the verbal warnings from her guards. However, as she turns her attention to the track, her eyes widen comically when she sees what has halted her movement. An idea blossoms in her mind as she grins wickedly and, without any warning, pounce straight onto the subject that is crucial to fulfill her scheme.

 

* * *

 

Echo has a fur blanket draped across her back as she recalls the event that had transpired in the forest to Lexa, who sits on a log opposite the bonfire in her full commander gear after she had arranged for a pyre to be made for Emerson’s body. The mood is grim. But after knowing that no serious harm had come to either Clarke nor Echo, Lexa can finally relax as the threat has already been eliminated. The commander bids goodnight to her warriors before gracefully stands up and head to her tent. She has yet to see Clarke after her arrival and is yearning to check on the younger girl herself. 

As she moves the partition of her tent opening, Lexa peers inside the main room of their tent. A large table takes up most of the space, and on it are multiple stacks of maps and letters that are neatly organised as Lexa had been taught the importance of meticulousness at such a young age. Numerous candles around the tent had been lit, giving the interior a warm glow. But as she scans the room, she could not find the blonde haired girl. Brows furrowing, she cautiously walk towards the corner where her private bedroom lies and draw back the curtains to reveal an empty but rumpled bed. She takes one step forward, when all of a sudden, a solid object shoots through the air and before she can react, it collides into her face. Lexa lets out an embarrassing squeak and went tumbling down onto the floor. She could feel something _furry_ wiggling at her face, so she raise both hands to try and peel the offending thing off. After some struggle, she finally did manage to free herself and so she got a clear view of the thing in her hand. Wide, beady eyes stare back at her and her jaw hangs open in pure shock at the absurdity of the situation. Before she could think of her next move, the booming sound of laughter brought her out of her staring contest to focus on Clarke, who is currently rolling on the ground, giggling at both of them. 

“I thought it would be funny but I didn’t think seeing you both side to side would be _this_ hilarious,” Clarke manage to say while clutching her stomach. Tears running down her cheeks, she look back at them again. “Lexa, you’ve got to admit the similarity is uncanny.”

Finally snapping out of her daze, Lexa’s face morph into one of disgust. “Clarke you can’t seriously say that I look like this... this _animal_ ,” She gasps, holding out the culprit with one hand. 

“Come on, Lexa. Just look at your war paint! It has the same war paint design as you. And don’t even make me mention how utterly _cute_ you two look beside each other. ‘Cause you look adorable.” Clarke motions with her fingers, first pointing at Lexa then at the brown raccoon she singlehandedly kidnapped earlier on. 

Lexa pouts, but Clarke can clearly see the the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth and the blush creeping up her neck. The commander takes one last look at the raccoon and throws it straight out of their room whilst maintaining eye contact with Clarke. 

“What did you do that for?” Clarke accuses, grumpy that her hard-earned prize had just been unceremoniously chucked out.

“Well I can’t have you saying that it was cuter than me,” Lexa pouts exaggeratedly. 

At this, Clarke loses all of her earlier amusement and proceed to walk over to her girlfriend. Lexa, however, stops her with a menacing scowl that only the heda can master, and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“I’m assuming you caught that creature during your walk back here?” Clarke hesitantly nods to the question. “And you caught it whilst you were wounded from your fight?” The younger woman catches on to the point Lexa is trying to make so she gulps and nods again, certain that this will not end well. Lexa huffs out an irritated breath and levels Clarke with a glare. “How can you be so reckless, Clarke? When you fought him you could have _died_.” At the last word, Lexa’s voice shakes. 

Suddenly feeling guilty, Clarke tentatively walks towards her and wraps her arms around the brunette’s slim frame. Lexa’s chin came to rest at the crook of her neck and Clarke can feel her body tremble, either from fear or anger, and the slight wetness that drips from Lexa’s eyes onto her shirt. 

“He had a gun, Clarke. One shot and you would be gone. I don’t know what I will do if you were killed. I don’t know how to go on living without you. I don’t even know if I _can_. I can’t go through it, Clarke. Not again.” Lexa stutters out while holding Clarke tightly as if it will reassure her that she’s still alive and not just a figment of her imagination.

Clarke manoeuvres their position so they both sit on the edge of the bed. She gently rubs soothing circles onto Lexa’s back and whisper words of affection into her ear until she can feel Lexa’s body slacken and the shaking stop. They pull back to look at each other properly and after a moment of silence, Clarke speaks up.

“I’m sorry I made you worry, Lexa. But I did handle the fight. After all, I learned from the best,” she flashes a cheeky smile, hoping to dissipate the tension.

Lexa leans forward to cup the beautiful blonde’s cheek and softly presses a kiss on her forehead, then at her jawline, and finally captures Clarke’s lips against hers. It quickly became heated, the atmosphere changing into one of passion and lust, as Clarke quickly unbuttons her commander’s overcoat and discards it hastily onto the ground. She makes quick work of Lexa’s body armour, then nearly rips open her tunic in her haste. Peppering open-mouth kisses down Lexa’s throat to her chest, Clarke looks up to see the commander’s breathing stutter, both of them panting heavily from the anticipation. When she reaches the hem of her leather pants, Clarke is about to pull them down when Lexa’s hand grasp hers. She looks up to see green eyes, pupil blown wide, but Lexa’s face was in deep concentration. 

“Is something wrong?” Clarke enquires, not understanding her girlfriend’s sudden hesitation. 

“Its just... I was wondering why you ambushed me with that raccoon in the first place?” Lexa elaborates, eyes squinting.

“It’s payback for threatening me with Indra this morning, and for the bruise on my ass,” Clarke deadpans. 

Lexa blanches and her face scrunches up in horror. “You did all that... just to prank me?” 

At this, Clarke bursts out into another bout of hysterical laughter at the sheer look of disdain upon Lexa’s face. She was boasting about her prowess during her giggling fit when abruptly, Lexa’s foot came crashing into her side, effectively tumbling Clarke’s body down the bed. Clarke lets out a long groan while Lexa chuckles with satisfaction. 

Looks like Clarke’s going to have another bruise on her ass.  

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo... That was my first ever fic. I'm so invested in this ship that I couldn't help but want to write some of my own to sate my gay little heart with fluff and some happy times for this couple (since the finale left me so broken). I would appreciate any feedbacks or if there are any mistakes please point them out! Oh and the title is a lyrics from the song "Colors" by the wonderful Halsey and I highly suggest you check out her stuff. Thanks for reading :)


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